“Oh, well, John! we must get over it in the quietest way possible. It wouldn’t be handsome not to make the agreeable to your wife’s company; and if you don’t like the quality of it, why, you are a good deal nearer to her than any one else can be,—you can gradually detach her from them.” “Then you think I ought to put a good face on their coming?” said John, with a sigh of relief. “Oh, certainly! of course. What else can you do? It’s one of the things to be expected with a young wife.” “And do you think the Wilcoxes and the Fergusons and the rest of our set will be civil?” “Why, of course they will,” said Grace. “Rose and Letitia will, certainly; and the others will follow suit. After all, John, perhaps we old families, as we call ourselves, are a little bit pharisaical and self-righteous, and too apt to thank God that we are not as other men are. It’ll do us good to be obliged to come a little out of our crinkles.” “It isn’t any old family feeling about Follingsbee,” said John. “But I feel that that man deserves to be in State’s prison much more than many a poor dog that is there now.” “And that may be true of many another, even in the selectest circles of good society,” said Grace; “but we are not called on to play Providence, nor pronounce judgments. The common courtesies of life do not commit us one way or the other. The Lord himself does not express his opinion of the wicked, but allows all an equal share in his kindliness.” “Well, Gracie, you are right; and I’ll constrain myself to do the thing handsomely,” said John. “The thing with you men,” said Grace, “is, that you want your wives to see with your eyes, all in a minute, what has got to come with years and intimacy, and the gradual growing closer and closer together. The husband and wife, of themselves, drop many friendships and associations that at first were mutually distasteful, simply because their tastes have grown insensibly to be the same.” John hoped it would be so with himself and Lillie; for he was still very much in love with her; and it comforted him to have Grace speak so cheerfully, as if it were possible. “You think Lillie will grow into our ways by and by?”—he said inquiringly. “Well, if we have patience, and give her time. You know, John, that you knew when you took her that she had not been brought up in our ways of living and thinking. Lillie comes from an entirely different set of people from any we are accustomed to; but a man must face all the consequences of his marriage honestly and honorably.” “I know it,” said John, with a sigh. “I say, Gracie, do you think the Fergusons like Lillie? I want her to be intimate with them.” “Well, I think they admire her,” said Grace, evasively, “and feel disposed to be as intimate as she will let them.” “Because,” said John, “Rose Ferguson is such a splendid girl; she is so strong, and so generous, and so perfectly true and reliable,—it would be the joy of my heart if Lillie would choose her for a friend.”